Fallen Apart
by XXforget-x-me-x-notXX
Summary: After Cartman moved away, everything seemed to just fall apart.
1. Ever since Cartman left

**Random and slightly pointless introduction: **So this is from Kenny's POV. I'm not entirely sure where this is going, so, um... Yeah. I wrote this really fast when I was bored, so... Please review and stuff, it makes me a happy person.

**Warning: **Well, they swear. That's it so far (yes, so far).

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Every day was the same. It's like South Park had become a normal town, ever since Cartman left. Sure, everyone said they hated him, but wasn't life better with him living here? More interesting, at least. I could tell that even Kyle missed him. Stan did, too. And Craig, and Clyde. And everyone else. I think Butters misses him the most. They kind of became best friends when I ditched Cartman. Butters always hung out with Cartman. They could've become closer than Kyle and Stan.

But then Cartman's real mother had to come find him. That was in seventh grade. Cartman came to school, looking pale and sad. He told us (Kyle, Stan, Butters, Tweek, and I) that he was moving to California. Butters cried, Tweek had a panic attack, Kyle laughed, Stan gave Eric a hug. If I remember right, I just stood there.

After he left, it just wasn't the same. The five of us stood at the bus stop the morning after he left in complete silence. Even Tweek was still. Cartman leaving changed everything. Butters started dressing in black, and he no longer stuttered. Kyle, for some reason or another, stopped wearing his green hat. Stan was a lot quieter. And me, no one really noticed how I changed, or even if I changed. I stopped having a best friend to do that a long time ago.

----------

Four years after Cartman left, and we're all 11th graders. I walked down the hallway. Tweek and Token were arguing about God knows what. They always argue. I ignored them, as always. About ten feet after, Stan was standing with his arm around Red's waist, next to Craig, who was holding Bebe's hand. Fifteen feet ahead of me, Kyle and Clyde were encircled by people chanting "Fight!". Not again.

I walked away quickly and snuck behind the school. The four original Goth kids were sitting one the steps with their two newer members: Butters and Wendy. "Hey," I said, lighting a cigarette. Luckily, I was one of the few non-Goth people that they liked. I'm not entirely sure why me, but who cares.

"Hey Keny," Wendy replied. She had grown her hair out until it reached her waist. She had choppy bangs that covered one of her violet eyes. She had light purple streaks in her hair and she wore a ton of makeup. She had a black lacy tank top on, and black skinny jeans, with shiny black strappy high heels.

Tyler, the Goth kid with the red roots, nodded at me. "Hey, Ken."

Henrietta took a drag on her cigarette. "What's up?"

I shrugged. "The usual. I'm living the same day again and again. Not literally, of course."

Sam, the 8th grader, snorted. "Aren't we all?"

I grinned, inhaling on my cigarette. "This is South Park, what should we expect?"

The curly haired Goth, Andrew, snorted. "The elementary days?"

I laughed. "Now _that _would be more interesting."

Butters sipped his black coffee. "Whatever happened to those days anyway?" His side-swept black bangs had dark blue streaks. He had a plain black t-shirt, and black skinny jeans with silver chains.

I sighed. "Cartman left."

----------

The teacher droned on. I tuned out. what class am I even in, anyway? What's the point of knowing, I'm not going anywhere with my life. But I think I might be in science class... Do I have biology or chemistry? Does it matter? It definitely doesn't. Wait, or is this Lit? Maybe I'm in Spanish. No, I'm not asleep yet, so it couldn't be Lit or Spanish. Wait, it _is _Lit... Why am I not asleep?

I felt a tap on my shoulder, and turned around to see two bright green eyes staring at me. Tame red curls fell over them and Kyle bit his lip. "Hey, uh, Kenny... Could I borrow a pencil?"

I snorted. "The first thing you say to me in two years, and you're asking for a pencil. Are you fucking kidding me, dude?" I turned away, fists clenched.

"Asshole..." I heard him say under his breath.

I spun around. "You wanna say something, say it to my face," I growled.

His eyes hardened in anger and he leaned in a little closer. "You're an asshole, Kenny."

"I didn't ditch my best friends, bastard," I hissed, glaring fiercely into his cold eyes.

He rolled his eyes and sighed. "Oh, get over it, pussy. It was eighth grade, and you didn't really care anyway."

"So? Stan cared."

He raised one eyebrow. "Did it matter to you if Stan got hurt?"

The bell rang and everyone rose and left the classroom. Once I was safely in the middle of the hallway, I turned around and punched Kyle in the nose as hard as I could. Trickles of blood slipped down his face and he stumbled back from the impact. "Yeah, dude, it mattered," I said calmly.

"You. Fucking. Asshole," Kyle said through clenched teeth. His hands curled into fists. He punched me in the stomach.

I grabbed his wrist as he tried to pull his hand back. I twisted his arm and he inhaled sharply in pain. Kyle slammed his foot onto mine and I let go in shock. I recovered quickly, despite my throbbing foot, and I slammed my fist into Kyle's chest. I was about to punch him again, when I felt someone's hand on my shoulder.

I turned and saw my current closest friends, Craig and Butters, behind me. Craig lifted his hand away and said, "He's not worth it, Kenny, trust me."

I relaxed my fists and sighed. "You're right." I shot a last glare at Kyle. His girlfriend, Millie, had come over and handed him a tissue to wipe the blood away. "Look after your girl, Ky. She goes to certain parties that you don't go to."

Kyle glared at me, and didn't respond.


	2. The one and only

**Random and slightly pointless introduction: **So. Chapter two. I don't really have anything to say here.

Ah, cafeteria food. Actually, my cafeteria has okay food. Most of the time. And if not, it always had bread, peanut butter, and jelly. Don't ask me why.

**Warning: **Swearing. Shouldn't be that hard to deal with, really.

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I sat down at my normal lunch table. With me, there was Butters and the rest of the Goth kids, plus Chris (the Mole), Craig and Bebe, and Ike, since he and Sam were good friends. Tyler acknowledged me with a nod, and Wendy smiled. "Hey, Ken," Craig said, taking a bite out of an apple.

"Hey, Craig," I smiled.

Butters elbowed Tyler in the arm. "Did ya hear, Kenny got in a fight with Kyle today."

Tyler rolled his eyes. "Who _hasn't _heard!"

Just then, Stan came over to our table. That hasn't happened since the middle of ninth grade. He always sat with Red, Heidi, Kevin, Clyde and Esther. He sat next to me, and received glares from the Goth kids, particularly Wendy and Tyler. "Hey, Ken," he said, ignoring the dirty looks.

"What do you fucking want?" I growled, taking a bite of something that may or may not be mashed potatoes.

"I heard you got in a fight with Kyle," he started slowly.

"Yeah, well, what else is new," I replied dryly, not looking him in the eyes.

"I also heard it had something to do with me," he continued softly. Craig, Wendy, Henrietta and Butters all turned to me. Everyone else was looking at Stan.

I stiffened. "You heard wrong," I hissed. "Are you planning on staying, 'cause we'll leave if you are."

Stan looked at the ground. "Okay, okay, I'll leave." He got up and headed back to his table, shoulders down.

"What was _that _about?" Butters asked.

"Nothing," I responded quietly.

"Did the fight somehow involve him?" Craig leaned in closer over the table in interest.

I shrugged. "Kyle and I got in an argument, and Stan came up in it. Really, I just felt a need to punch the fucking bastard in the nose, I just needed a reason," I lied.

No one responded. Clearly, they didn't buy that. I never needed a reason before. My friends clearly knew that I could get in a fist fight with anyone I wanted and I didn't have to have any reason at all. Like Clyde, for instance. I've gotten into so many fights with him before that just started with me hitting him. Ike exchanged glances with Sam.

Ike bit his lip. "Well, um, what were you arguing about?"

"Uh, he asked me for a pencil... And I got pissed off 'cause that's the first thing he said to me since eighth grade... And then he called me and asshole... And I brought up how he ditched me and Stan. He said something about how I probable didn't even care he had ditched us. And I said that Stan had cared. And he asked me if it had mattered to me whether or not Stan got hurt..." I said slowly, and a bit awkwardly, since I was telling this to Kyle's younger brother.

Ike looked at me and rose his eyebrows. "Then what?"

"Then the bell rang, and when we were out in the hallway, I said that it _had _mattered to me, and punched him in the nose," I paused for a moment as a few of them looked surprised. "I said _had. _That's past tense. Get over it."

Ike grinned. "I think I'm gonna go ask Kyle about this," he shot off before I could stop him.

I turned and watched him head over to Kyle's table. Sitting with Kyle, there was Gregory, Tweek, Token, Millie, Pip, Annie, and Damien.

"Well, at least we now finally realize we have a connection with _them,_" Chris spoke up for the first time. "We've been avoiding the subject of the fact that we sit with Kenny's least favorite person's brother all year."

"Kyle's not my _least _favorite person. That's Gregory," I chuckled.

Chris rolled his eyes. "Okay, okay, _second _least favorite person's brother. There, you ruined the dramatic effect of it. Happy?"

"Very," I said, grinning.

Sam frowned at his plate and poked it with his fork. "Hey, is this chicken or pork?"

I looked over at it. "Actually, I thought it was mashed potatoes."

Andrew looked at it, too. "Wait, that isn't spaghetti?"

Craig laughed. "What have we been eating?"

Ike rushed back over. "Kyle's story is the same as Kenny's, Kenny wasn't lying."

I raised an eyebrow and snorted. "I could've told you that."

He rolled his eyes. "You're biased."

Chris glanced at Ike. "So, Ike, how do you feel about someone you frequently hang out with at school getting in a fist fight with your older brother?"

The blue-eyed eighth grader tilted his head. "I didn't really think about it that way."

Craig rolled his eyes. "How can you not think about it that way?"

Ike shrugged. "I guess I just don't associate them, even in my head. When I'm here, Kenny is one of my friends. When I'm home, Kyle is my brother. It's not really that complicated, since they're almost never in the same place."

Wendy blinked and flipped her black and lavender hair. "That makes very little sense, Ike."

"I guess," Ike said, biting into the sandwich he'd brought.

Craig pointed at Ike's sandwich with his fork. "Now _that _was smart. We should really start bringing home lunches. That way we know what we're eating."

I stabbed at the possibly edible brownish lumps, with no intention of getting them anywhere near my mouth. "Agreed, dude."

Sam sighed and pushed his tray away. "I lost my appetite."

----------

I passed the basketball to Craig with a smirk on my face. "Really, you guys are gonna have to do better than that to beat us."

There was everyone who I sit with at lunch in Craig's driveway. He had recently gotten a basketball hoop, and we were bored after school. It was Craig, Tyler, Wendy, Ike, Chris and I against Butters, Henrietta, Andrew, Sam and Bebe. My team was winning, four to two.

Bebe grinned and flipped her blonde curls. "For the record, we're letting you win."

"This sport it so boring, can we do something else?" Henrietta groaned.

Ike laughed and smiled at Henrietta. "You're just a sore loser."

"Yeah, I am, now can we stop?" she replied, rolling her chocolate brown eyes.

Tyler shrugged. "Well, if we stop now, we win."

Craig chuckled. "Ya got a point there."

I grinned and shot one more basket before collapsing onto the snow on the lawn in front of Craig's house. Wendy followed me and lay down right beside me. Butters and Tyler leaned against the wall, and Henrietta and Bebe both sat cross-legged in the snow. Craig dropped next to Bebe, his arm around her. Sam and Ike sat on their knees next to Henrietta. Chris and Andrew threw a few more baskets before joining us on the grass.

"Now what?" Tyler sighed, obviously bored.

Bebe grinned. "Truth or dare?"

Andrew, Chris and Craig all groaned in unison. Chris rubbed his temples. "Why, Bebe?"

Bebe frowned. "Well, we haven't played since, like, seventh grade. Can you think of anything better to do?"

Chris, Andrew and Craig all exchanged glances. Andrew sighed. "Okay, Bebe. Whatever."

Wendy and I sat up. She stretched and asked, "So who goes first?"

Bebe looked at Ike. "Ike, truth or dare?"

He thought for a second, weighing the options. "Truth," he decided.

"Are you gay?" she said back almost immediately.

He laughed with a hint of nervousness. "No, Bebe, I'm not gay."

"Are you bi?"

He narrowed his blue eyes at her. "You only get one question," he replied. "Wendy, truth or dare?"

Wendy sighed. "Truth."

"Do you have a crush on someone here?" Ike asked, grinning madly.

Wendy's cheeks turned a deep shade of red. "Yes, Ike, I do."

He blinked. "Really? Who?"

She raised an eyebrow. "As you said, only one question," she stated, clearly satisfied with herself. Then she turned to Chris. "Truth or dare?"

Chris ran his fingers through his hair and lit a cigarette. "I'll say truth, like everyone else."

Henrietta frowned. "If we all jumped off a bridge, would you?"

Chris blinked and inhaled on his cigarette. "As a matter of fact, I would."

Wendy bit her lip and frowned, clearly trying to think of questions she could ask him. "Chris, are you a virgin?"

"No," he said coolly. He seemed completely unfazed by this question.

Sam tilted his head to one side. "Who was it?"

Chris sighed. "Only one question, ad Ike and Wendy have already said," he said, turning to Craig. "Truth or dare?"

Craig thought for a moment. "Truth."

"Have you ever cheated on Bebe?" the French brunette asked with a weird smile.

"No," Craig replied, kissing Bebe on the cheek. She blushed and smiled shyly. Craig then turned to me. "Hey, Kenny, truth or dare?"

I shrugged. "Truth, I guess, I'm too lazy to do a dare."

Craig raised an eyebrow. "Did the fight with Kyle today actually have something to do with Stan, or were you telling the truth when you said it was just so you had a reason to fight him?"

I looked at the snow and thought for a second about my answer. I could always lie, and tell them Stan had nothing to do with the reason I punched Kyle. They would realize that I was lying, obviously, but I could still do it. Or I could come right out and tell them that I _was _fighting Kyle because he basically said that I never really cared about Stan's feelings. Which I did. And, regrettably, still do. Same with Kyle, though, really. Even though they aren't my friends anymore, they still used to be my best friends. Despite the fact that I acted like I hated them, I never actually could truly hate them.

"Are you ever gonna answer, Kenny?" Craig said suddenly, shaking me out of my mental rant.

"The fight did have something to do with Stan, " I admitted quietly.

"Out of curiosity, why?" Henrietta pressed.

"I... I guess I just didn't like Kyle saying that I never really cared about Stan's feelings," I answered slowly and softly. "What he was trying to say wasn't true. I cared way more about their feelings then they ever cared about mine."

Wendy put a comforting hand on my shoulder. "Yeah, they were complete assholes for ditching you like that."

I smiled. "Hey, Ike, truth or dare?"

"Truth," he responded automatically.

"Are you bi?" I repeated Bebe's earlier question that he didn't answer.

"Yeah, I'm bi," Ike sighed. He turned to Henrietta. "Truth or dare?"

She was about to answer, probably to say truth, when we were interrupted.

"Mind if I join?" a husky voice said. We all looked up. A tall, slender teenage guy was standing there. He had dark brown hair with light brown highlights. His bangs swept across his forehead in the wind. He smiled knowingly, his honey-colored eyes sparkling, almost dangerously. He had slightly fitted red t-shirt that said "California" in black writing. His dark gray jeans were ripped in several places, and his red converse were faded. He was fairly tan, but not that dark. He had one pierced ear, with an earring that looked like a small diamond.

We gaped for a moment. "Who are you?" Wendy asked slowly.

The guy grinned. "I thought someone might ask that. What, Wendy, you don't recognize me?"

The goth girl stiffened. "You know me?"

His grin got wider. "And you know me."

I looked him up and down a second time. "Seriously, dude, who are you?"

His amber gaze shifted to me. "You don't recognize me either, Ken?"

"If I did recognize you, would I ask you who you were?" I said dryly.

He shrugged. "I don't know, you were always kinda weird. No offense."

"None taken," I replied. I couldn't help staring at him intently. I didn't even recognize him vaguely. Not even a tiny bit. I'm not even getting a flashback. It's weird, because I always remember faces. I'm good at that kind of thing. But I just can't remember this guy.

Butters blinked twice and looked into the stranger's golden-brown eyes. "Um, how do you know Kenny and Wendy?" he asked tentatively.

"Same way I know you, Butters." He flashed a smiled. "So do you guys have room for one more?"

Wendy and I glanced at each other. Ike shrugged, "Sure, why not."

"Thanks, Ike," he said, sitting down next to the eighth grader. "How's Kyle?"

"An ass," I replied before Ike could say anything.

"I never thought I'd hear you say that, Ken," he said in surprise.

"Did you ever think that Stan would hate Kyle?" Craig added.

The new guy blinked in shock. "Wait, what? Weren't they "super best friends" or something gay like that? Dude, what else has happened since I left?"

I paused. "Wait, _Cartman_?"

He grinned. "The one and only."


	3. Back from the deep, dark depths of Hell

**Random and slightly pointless introduction: **Well, this is a fairly short chapter. But it's also fairly important. Particularly the end part. But now I have no idea how to continue it. I'm kind of at a dead end. And this is because I made the characters stubborn. Ah, curse the fun of writing hatred...

**Warning: **Swearing and some violence. If you can't handle that... You shouldn't watch South Park...

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Silence followed that sentence. Realization crept over everyone's faces. Eric Cartman was back. That's how he knew all of us. But... he was so different. Skinny, even a bit of muscle on his arms... He had an _earring_. What had happened to the Eric Cartman we all knew and mostly tolerated?

He sighed and rolled his eyes. "I haven't changed that much. You're all overreacting."

"C-Cartman... Y-you're back..." Butters said slowly, his long-lost stutter coming back.

"Yep. I'm back from the deep, dark depths of Hell," he responded happily.

Tyler blinked and stared at him. "You're... skinny..."

Cartman raised his eyebrows and looked down at himself. He gasped sarcastically. "Look at that, I am, aren't I? Wow! Who knew, right?"

Bebe frowned. "Not to be rude or anything, but why are you here?"

"Well, my mom decided she wanted to move here," he explained. "She got so excited from all the stories I would tell her, but she had to wait to raise the money to be able to move."

"Wait- doesn't your mom already live here?" Andrew asked, confused.

"Ah, no. That's actually my dad. We found out in third grade that my mom was actually my dad, because she- or he- was a hermaphrodite," Eric replied. "My mom then came and found me in seventh grade, because she regretted letting my dad keep me."

"I remember that! Maphisto nearly died before he had the chance to tell you who your dad was. Ah, good times," I laughed.

Cartman grinned. "Yeah. I bet you guys had a ton of exciting adventures without me, though. I wanna hear about that!"

"Sadly, after you left, South Park became- God forbid- a normal town," I said with a sigh.

He gasped dramatically. "What? How did this happen? Do you not die any more?" At this point, I was noticing how his voice was no longer as strange as it had been when we were kids.

I shook my head. "The last time I died was seventh grade, when you were here."

"Wow, life must've _sucked _without me!" He grinned, clearly very happy at his discovery.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Wendy said, raising an eyebrow.

Cartman smiled. I had to stop my jaw from dropping. I don't think I had _ever _seen him smile so sincerely, so genuinely. I think it's the first time I see him smile without anything behind it, without some scheme, or some insult, or something to gloat about. He was just smiling because he was... happy...

He must've changed a lot.

----------

Ah, Saturday. Finally. I just woke up. It was noon, and I rolled lazily and contently out of bed. I threw on an orange v-neck t-shirt and some ripped blue jeans. I didn't bother getting a jacket. I figured it was fairly pointless. I was so used to the cold by now, I could go outside without a shirt at all and I'd be completely fine.

My cell phone rang. I sighed in annoyance and grabbed it. "What?" I answered.

"Is that how you always answer your phone, Ken? Honestly!"

"Cartman?" I asked slowly. "How did you get my number?"

"Oh, Stan gave it to me," he responded. "Come to Stark's Pond."

"Request or order?" I snorted.

"Order. Now get over here!"

He hung up and I walked to Stark's Pond. When I got there, Stan and Cartman were sitting on a bench and Kyle was heading toward them. I rolled my eyes. If this was his attempt at getting us to hang out again, it wasn't going to work. "Hey, Cartman!" I said once I got to the bench, sounding annoyingly happy. I ignored the fact that two other people were there, too.

"Kenny," Kyle growled. "What are _you _doing here?"

I raised an eyebrow. "Cartman told me to come."

Kyle glared at Cartman. "I hate him."

"Aw, how nice, I hate you, too, Ky," I said cheerily.

Eric sighed and rubbed his temples. "Just when did this happen?"

"Around eighth and ninth grade," Stan replied, flicking his ebony hair out of his eyes.

"Yeah. Eighth when Kyle ditched us, and ninth when Stan ditched me," I snapped, glaring at Stan ferociously.

Stan flinched under my harsh glare. He murmured something, but I couldn't hear, and I really didn't care anyway. I shifted my glare to Kyle, because I could feel the daggers he was shooting at me. "You, Kyle, have hardly a good reason to hate me."

"What, attacking me isn't a good reason?" he hissed.

"Not when it's _your _fault I did it!" I snarled right back.

He walked right up to me, fists clenched. "How is it _my _fault that you're taking after you useless dad by not being able to control your temper?"

"Take that back," I seethed through clenched teeth.

"Make me," he taunted, his green eyes glittering.

"Stop acting like you're better than me!" I said, my voice rising close to a shout.

"I _am _better than you! Everyone in the fucking school is _better_ than you! Even your whiny, asshole friends are above you!" he retorted.

I punched him in the eye. _That's _gonna leave a mark tomorrow. He deserves a black eye. He stumbled back in shock. I took the opportunity to knee him in the stomach, kick him in the shin, punch him in face again, and shove him against a tree.

Cartman and Stan both jumped up. Stan grabbed my arms and held me back, while Cartman helped Kyle get his balance. I elbowed Stan in the chest, and he let go. I started to walk away, but Cartman's voice stopped me. "You two used to be _friends,_" he said, his voice sad.

I turned around and glared. "Yeah, and now we're not. Get over it, Eric," I growled. I spun around and walked back home.


	4. Here goes nothing

**Random and slightly pointless introduction: **Well here's another chapter. Ah, Kenny is so very, very stubborn... Sorry this chapter is short. When I see something that could be an end, I end it. So... yeah. That's my explanation. I decided I wanna know how many people actually read my author's notes, so if you read this, put "blueberry" anywhere in your review. So I hope you like this chapter!!!

**Warning: **Some swearing.

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The next few days, Kyle and Stan avoided me like the plague. I wish I could say the same about Cartman, though. He sat with my group at lunch and almost never stopped talking. Weirdly enough, he never made fun of anyone. It was like he was an entirely different person or something.

"Hey, Ken," he shouted after me as I was walking home.

I turned and groaned. "What do you want?"

"To apologize. I shouldn't have assumed that I could bring us all back together, and I'm sorry I tried to get you and Kyle to be friends again. I can tell that you're both too stubborn to give in, and I promise I won't try again." He said that all in one breath and panted a little when he finished.

"Thanks dude, I appreciate it," I replied, still surprised, despite the fact that I knew he was practically a new person.

"However..." he added.

"There's more?" I grumbled, pushing my dirty blond hair out of my eyes.

"...I _don't _think it's too late for you and Stan to be friends. After all, he misses you, and he helped me plan the whole disaster that happened the other day, so he's willing to try," Eric continued. "So come by Stan's house after school tomorrow?"

I sighed in defeat. "Fine, I'll come. No promises on trying to make it work, though."

"That's all I need, dude. Thanks," he sighed, too, but it was in relief.

"Yeah, whatever."

----------

I headed to Stan's house the next day. _Here goes nothing. _

I tapped lightly on the door, and Shelly came to answer it. "Well, well, well. I haven't seen you come by here in a long time," she sneered.

"Not without reason. Where are Stan and Cartman?" I asked.

"Stan's room. You know the way, turd," she said, moving aside so I could go up the stairs.

I got there and knocked gently on the door with my fist.

"Come in!" called Stan's voice.

I opened the door to see Eric sitting on the ground against a wall and Stan sitting against the wall opposite Eric. I sat on the floor next to the door in case I really had to make a run for it.

"So. What now?" I asked.

Eric shrugged. "Why do you hate Stan?"

"For ditching me. What's the point of this?"

"Stan and I both want you guys to be friends again," Cartman stated. "Think of it as therapy kind of."

I groaned loudly. "Okay, well why did you ditch me, Stan?"

There was a bit of an awkward silence after that. "I... Well, um..."

"That's what I thought," I growled, getting pissed off. He didn't even have a fucking _reason. _

"I wouldn't have ditched you if you hadn't gotten all brooding and boring and annoying after Kyle left!" Stan suddenly snapped.

I laughed coldly. "Stan, _you're _the one who was wallowing in self-pity. You were such a fucking wimp, dude."

I noticed Stan's jaw stiffen at that. I was getting to him, and I knew it. "Okay, Kenny, I admit it, I kind of was. But I was allowed to be that sad. Kyle was my best friend ever."

"And I was never enough for you," I shot back. "I could never fill the place that Kyle didn't. I didn't rise up to your fucking expectations, so you tried to find someone who could replace Kyle. I know why you ditched me, Stan, even if you don't."

He turned in surprise and stared my dead in the eyes. His dark blue gaze was clouded by shock, confusion, and guilt. "Ke-Kenny, I..."

"Forget it, dude. I'm out of here," I stood up swiftly and left his house, ignoring the calls of Cartman and Stan asking me to come back.


	5. Did you see THAT?

**Random and slightly pointless introduction: **Well I've been having tons and tons of writer's block, so I decided to kind of cut the chapter a little short. Does anyone have any ideas of what to do? Because I'm having some trouble.

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I sat down at my lunch table with the questionable looking goo on my tray. Craig immediately looked up at me. "Hey, Ken, did you see _that?" _He pointed towards another side of the cafeteria and I turned my head.

Sitting at a small table, there was Cartman, Stan, and Kyle, all together, laughing and talk. I couldn't help staring. Stan and Kyle were sitting next each other, and Cartman was on the other side. He was talking to Stan and Kyle animatedly while they chuckled and listened.

Stan turned and noticed my staring. I shot him a glare. Instead of glowering back like I thought he would, he looked down sadly before turning back to his conversation.

I bit my lip and tried to look away from them, but all through lunch, I kept stealing glances. And each time, I felt a sharp pain in my heart. This just reminded me how everyone was fine without me.

So this is what it feels like to be on the outside.

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The next week, I kept seeing the three of them together. I didn't exactly _want _to be a part of it. I guess I just wanted them to seem more... incomplete without me. After all, even if I disliked them now, I still used to be in the group. Shouldn't they kind of feel weird with only the three of them?

I guess that's a little selfish of me. But really, why should I care? I'm never selfish, I deserve to be sometimes.

Craig, Bebe, Butters, Tyler, Ike, Sam, Henrietta and I were sitting by Stark's Pond, really bored. Andrew and Wendy both had detention, and Chris just chose not to come. He had a reason, I think, but I don't remember what it was, nor do I care.

"We could throw rocks at people," Craig suggested.

"Or we could go somewhere," Bebe said, watching the spider on Ike's finger. "The pond is boring."

"We could see what happens if we push Sam into the water," Henrietta mumbled, also staring at Ike's spider.

"You know what, I'm so bored that I'd be okay with that," Sam sighed. He flicked his black hair back.

Ike idly played with the spider and groaned. "We normally can think of _something _to do."

"Well, I'm just too lazy to not be bored," I announced.

"Eh, you've got a point," Tyler replied. "I'd rather do this than move."

"Moving takes energy, and time, and... energy," Butters murmured, picking the few pieces of grass that stuck through the snow.

Craig glanced at me. "So what's with Kyle, Stan and Eric hanging out all the time now?"

I rolled my eyes. "Cartman wanted to recreate our old group. He tried to get me to, but first I tried to beat the hell out of Kyle, and then I ended up getting mad at Stan, so... It didn't exactly work out."

Butters raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"Cartman invited the three of us- Stan, Kyle, and me- here about a week or two ago, and instead of getting the group back, Kyle and I got in a fight."

"What? Why didn't you tell us this?" Henrietta asked.

"It has absolutely no importance," I replied.

"Well, what happened with Stan?" Ike pressed, his blue eyes burning with curiosity.

"Cartman told me that he decided he would give up on me and Kyle, but he wanted me to come to Stan's house to hang out and see if we could be friends again," I explained.

"Yeah, and then what?" Bebe insisted.

"And then Stan pissed me off so I walked out," I finished. "None of them have talked to me since."

"Huh. Dramatic," Craig said thoughtfully. He ran his fingers through his hair and leaned back against a tree.

I laughed. "I guess."


	6. Not needed

**Random and slightly pointless introduction: **Really short chapter. Sorry.

But I have an excuse. My computer clearly thought it would be hilarious if it deleted all my work. I had to rewrite all the chapters that weren't uploaded. And it sucked.

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Craig and I sat on the bench by Stark's Pond. He turned to me with a look in his eyes. "What is it?" I asked, my voice laced with impatience.

"Does it bug you?" he said, his eyebrows knitted together.

"Does what bug me?" I knew what he was talking about, but I really just didn't want to make it seem like I thought about it at all. After all, I don't really want people to think I care in any way, shape, or form.

He sighed. "You know, the three of them. Hanging out like old times. But without you."

That last sentence sent a sharp pain to my heart. I looked at my feet and didn't respond.

"Why?" Craig questioned simply.

"It... It's not that I want to go back to them. It didn't work the first time, why would it work now? But... the thing is... Without Cartman, everything completely fell apart. That time in fifth grade when Stan got really sick and had to leave for three months, things weren't the same at all. When Kyle temporarily moved to San Fransisco, Cartman went as far to go back and get him."

"Where are you going with this?"

I shot him a glare. "Without me, they look the same. There's no hole, nothing missing. They looked so naturally happy... It just... It makes me feel like I really never mattered. I mean, in fourth grade when I was gone for months, they just replaced me and were whole again... I don't want to be replaceable. Or, even worse, not needed at all."

"Ken... You know we need you, right? You matter to _us. _Is that enough?"

I knew that when he said _us _he meant our group. "Do I really, though?"

"Of course!" He sounded almost hurt by that.

I turned to him and gave him a small smile. "You guys would be fine without me."

I got up and left. As I expected, he didn't try to stop me.


	7. I've never hated you

**Random and slightly pointless introduction: **Wow... I'm so sorry. I really, really need to be less lazy. So, umm... How much do you hate me?

**Warning: **I suck at updating? Oh, and swearing.

* * *

I walked home slowly, the cold wind blowing in my face. It had been a week since I had that talk with Craig, and he'd barely said anything to me. I hardly think he's mad at me. After all, he's not one to give the cold shoulder or anything. I'm not sure what's wrong with him.

I heard footsteps running behind me, and a voice call out, "Hey, Kenny, can we talk?"

"You tell me," I replied, assuming it was Craig.

To my surprise, Stan walked up beside me. "Hi," he said awkwardly.

"Oh, its you," I said coldly. "What is it?"

He looked down at his shoes, his dark hair falling into his eyes. "I, um... I wanted to apologize. When you... I mean... You were right, Ken."

"I know I was right," I said through clenched teeth. I stopped walking suddenly, and he turned around.

"You surprised me, you know. With how well you knew me. I really didn't think you cared all that much..." he admitted, and pain stabbed at my heart.

I glared at him. "_You _didn't think _I _cared?"

"You know, Ky told me what caused that one fight," Stan mumbled, looking into my eyes hopefully.

I blinked in shock and slight panic, but I covered it up quickly. "Oh."

"Yeah..."

I sighed, and turned away to cover up the nostalgic tears that were filling my eyes. "What do you want from me, Stan?"

"I... I just don't want you to hate me anymore..." he said, desperation in his voice.

I laughed coldly. "I've never hated you."

He looked shocked. I offered him a sad smile filled with regret before walking to my house alone.

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I was almost falling asleep in Lit. God, this class is boring... What's the point of it, anyway? It's not like I'll care about _The Taming of the Shrew _in a year. Hell, in a week it'll be irrelevant to my life. I can't believe I'm gonna have to do an entire project on the damn play. I think we have to analyze a scene, and then rewrite in "modern English." Plus, we're doing it in groups that the teacher will assign. And just my luck, teachers never fail to give me the worst group possible.

"So, the groups will be... Butters, Millie, and Kevin..."

Butter groaned. "Way to kill the only good day I had this week."

The teacher glared at him before continuing. "Wendy, Craig, and Gregory..."

Wendy and Craig both shot out protests, but were ignored.

"Chris, Red, and Heidi," she droned, looking at them expectantly, anticipating some show of annoyance. No one protested, though, because Red and Heidi are good enough friends, and Chris was just happy to be with two hot girls.

"Okay," the teacher said with an awkward look on her face. "Kyle, Stan, and Kenny."

I suddenly felt sick to my stomach. I almost felt like I was about to pass out, or puke.

"Um, I don't think this'll work, Miss Haynes. We don't get along very well," Kyle said nervously.

"The groups are what they are, Mr. Broflovski. I'm sorry, but you'll just have to get over your differences."

I grabbed my stuff and got up quickly. "I don't feel so good," I murmured to Miss Haynes before stumbling out the classroom and walking straight home.


	8. What a stupid thought

**Random and slightly pointless introduction: **I tried, but I failed. I'm sorry that this chapter is terrible.

**Warning: **This may be the worst chapter in the whole story. Swearing, too.

* * *

I woke up at around 2 in the afternoon on Saturday and blinked the sleep from my eyes. I threw on a pair of jeans and a white V-neck T-shirt, before stumbling downstairs. Clearly, no one else was home. Thank God. I opened the cupboard to see if there was anything mildly decent to eat. There was some moldy shit, who knows what it used to be, there was a half-eaten loaf of Wonderbread, a can of chicken noodle soup, and some Pop-tarts. I groaned. The same thing I've had for as long as I can remember.

I went back to my room and grabbed my wallet to see if I had anything left from the money I'd saved working. I shoved it into my pocket and trudged back downstairs, when I heard a knock on the door. I raised an eyebrow and went over and opened it.

"Hey," Stan said with a nervous half smile. His gaze flickered from the floor to my eyes several times.

I frowned in confusion. "What're you doing here? Even, when we were friends, you never came over."

"We-we... We aren't friends?" he said, his eyes wide. Wow, he looks like a mix between a five-year-old and a puppy.

"Dude. I said I didn't hate you. Not that we were friends," I replied, crossing my arms. "So what're you doing here? I don't have all day."

He looked down at his feet, his dark blue eyes tinted with shame and disappointment. "I... I was... gonna, um, ask if you... wanted to hang out... or something... 'cause I kinda thought... that w-we were cool now... But, uh, I get it. I'll just leave now..."

I had to stop myself from cringing at the sound of his voice. He almost seemed like he was about to cry or something. God, he's so sensitive... He's like a girl, with his getting the wrong idea, showing up at my house, and nearly crying (or actually crying) once I set him straight...

I tried not to sigh. "I guess if you wanna hang out... I won't say no." I offered him a little smile.

"Don't feel obligated," Stan responded, his voice laced with bitterness.

"But I-" I started.

"Forget it," he interrupted, refusing to look me in the eye. "You know me really well, Ken. Better than I thought you did. Let me show you how well I know you. You were trying to put up a front right there. You aren't as cold and harsh as you act. You saw that you hurt me, and you pitied me. So you tried to make it better by acting like you wanted to spend time with me, when in reality, you're scared to death that if you let your guard down, I'll just throw you away like last time. You don't want to be abandoned, because you don't know if you can take it. You don't think you're strong enough to handle it. That's why you pushed me away, and Kyle, and Cartman, at the slightest show of us reaching out to you."

I blinked and there was a moment of silence. "Stan, you-"

He put his hand up and glared at me. "Save it. I don't need your pity, and you don't need my friendship. See you Monday, Ken."

I watched him leave and slowly closed the door, not feeling so hungry anymore.

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_Quick author's note in the middle of the chapter: So we've heard a lot about Kenny's point of view, but what are Kyle's thoughts? I made him seem like a jerk, which is what I had intended, despite the fact I like Kyle quite a bit. Anyway, that's beside the point. The rest of this chapter is in Kyle's point of view, because Kenny's POV doesn't do him any justice. Shutting up now. _

The last bell of the day rung and I bolted out of the classroom. I had to talk to Kenny about the Lit project, and this was my only chance. He'd been avoiding me all week. As much as I didn't want to talk to him, I couldn't afford to fail this project.

I caught a glimpse of him turning a corner and I ran after him. He was walking toward his locker and I grabbed his shoulder. "I need to talk to you."

He didn't look at me. "I really think we have nothing to talk about."

"That's where you'd be wrong. The Lit project, Kenny. The teacher refuses to change the groups, so we have to do it together," I replied. Kenny didn't say anything in response.

I let out a frustrated sigh. "Look. I know you hate me-"

"With good reason," he interrupted harshly. He still didn't look at me, but he was glaring ahead with his piercing electric blue eyes.

"...Right. But that's not the point. Ken, I-"

"Don't call me Ken," he snapped.

I clenched my teeth trying to keep calm. "Okay, I won't. What I've been trying to say, is that we need to do the Lit project. It won't go away if you pretend it doesn't exist. You can't just ignore it."

Kenny laughed coldly. "Watch me."

I grabbed his arm in a rush of anger and shoved his against the lockers, pinning him there.

He pushed me away and easily got loose. "You listen to me, Kyle. I'd rather fail Lit class than spend so much as another fucking minute with you. I don't care about this damn project at all. You wanna get good grade on it, do it without me. Tell the teacher whatever you want. I don't care. Just leave me the hell alone."

I didn't respond and he just glared for another heartbeat before leaving.

He's changed a lot. He used to be so nice, so forgiving... I didn't tell him this, but I never needed a pencil in Lit. I just really wanted an excuse to talk to him. Because I missed him. I guess that's what I get for being a bad friend. No going back now, though. He doesn't want to be friends with me anyway. And to think, I hoped that working on the project with him might actually make us cool again. What a stupid thought.


End file.
